by Lewis Stone
Randy could see his parent's marriage was troubled, as for the past several years all his parents had done was argue, but it was still a shock when his father walked out the door for the last time. For the next three years his dad visited once a month until he remarried, and then the visits were few and far between. Randy's new step-mom had made clear she didn't want a teenager around the house.
Since his dad had been the one enforcing discipline in the house, it wasn't long before discipline was gone from Randy's life altogether. His dad had smacked his bottom on rare occasions, but now that Dad was gone, Randy's mom let those rules slide.
Life wasn't bad for Randy and his mother, Carrie, as she held a great job. Support payments were often late, but his dad paid them eventually. Randy wondered if his mother would seek out another man, but for the first year following her husband's departure, Carrie showed little interest in dating. She spent time with her three or four girlfriends and looking after Randy ... who had to admit his mom looked after him better now than when his dad had been around.
Randy was allowed to live as he chose up to his sixteenth birthday. His mom thought he needed time to adjust; any problems he caused were just him getting over the marriage breakup. He actually had few problems with the divorce, but he took advantage of the situation to do as he pleased. When his mother said something about his behaviour, he would pretend to cry, saying he missed his dad, and Carrie would let things drop. Randy, being a typical teenager went on doing what he wanted.
Just after his sixteenth birthday party, which even he eventually agreed had got out of hand owing to having alcohol present. The party took place on Saturday night, and he had not got to sleep until three in the morning. He got out of bed after two o'clock on Sunday afternoon and stumbled downstairs dressed in his underwear and bathrobe, planning to return and play video games. He mumbled "Hello," as he walked past his mother on his way to the kitchen.
Carrie watched her son pass by, and had to agree her friend Irene may have been right when they talked about him. Carrie knew about the beer at his birthday party and his behaviour as a result of drinking. She had listened to warnings from Irene for months, recalling those conversations as Randy walked past, treating her as though she was a roommate instead of his mother. She had been raised to respect her parents, and as Irene had told her, it was apparent Randy didn't show her the same respect. Irene had suggested a way to regain that respect, but Carrie wasn't sure that going to such extremes would be necessary. Sitting on the sofa, she decided now would be a good time to find out if what Irene said was true.
"Randy, come here please? We need to discuss last night."
"Later, Mom." Randy bit into his sandwich while continuing on his way back to his room. "I've made arrangements to play a game with a few friends in twenty minutes and need to be setup. Maybe later this evening, if it's not too late."
Carrie went in to mild shock. He had put her off like she was an annoyance. "No, Randy! We'll talk now! You can forget the game until we're finished. You've got five minutes to tell your friends."
He was halfway up the stairs. "If I'm not in on the start of the game there's no sense playing. I'll come down when we take our first break in an hour or so. The party was a blast. Maybe a bit noisy, but it's over now and there's nothing to worry about." Continuing up the stairs he slammed the door to his room before starting up his computer.
Carrie was flabbergasted, realizing Irene was right. Randy had ignored her request to talk, and set his own conditions as to when they would meet. She arranged the room for the approaching confrontation then went to his room. Not bothering with knocking, she burst in through his door.
"Randy, I said we talk now, and I mean now! Shut that damn computer off and move your ass down those stairs!"
Randy covered the microphone connected to his computer. "Mom! My friends are online and they're listening. I told you I'd come down when we take our break."
Seeing him not getting out of his chair, Carrie walked over to the wall outlet where everything plugged in and pulled the cord out. "Now no one is listening, including you it appears. Now move!"
With his video screen going dark, anger flashed in Randy's eyes. Turning to his mom, he was just about to shout as he had done many times, but something in her look made him hesitate.
"All right, you ruined the game," he groused. "I'm coming. Thanks for nothing."
Carrie followed her son out of his bedroom. "Oh you will be thanking me, but I promise it won't be for nothing. This is something I should have done years ago."
The two entered the living room where Randy plopped down in an armchair, his arms across his chest, his face reflecting the attitude he was displaying.
"So, I'm here. You said you wanted to talk about the party. I told you, some people thought it was too noisy, but they're just whining. Yes, I got home after curfew, but being my birthday party I couldn't up and leave."
Carrie's anger built up as she stood listening to him, his voice showing disdain for having to sit there. "You forgot to mention the beer, Randy. How did beer happen to be at a birthday party for a sixteen-year old?"
He shrugged. "An older brother of one of the guys dropped it off. It was only three dozen, less than two bottles each if everyone took their share. No big deal, it's not like I haven't tasted beer before."
Carrie froze when he admitted he'd had beer before. "Are you telling me you've been drinking beer before this? How many of those parties you go to have alcohol at them, mister?"
Randy took a second and wondered why he'd mentioned it. It would only lead to more trouble for him, but it was too late now. "Only one, or two at the most, Mom. No one got drunk, so what's the big fuss?"
She took a step toward him. "I will be phoning all the parents later to tell them about the beer drinking. I don't think it will take long to find out which older brother dropped it off. There will be no parties for you for the next two months. You're grounded every weekend for a month, and after that, your curfew is down to 11pm. for the following month. Am I clear?"
Randy stared at her while slamming his hand on the armchair. "You can't do that! I've made plans, and all my friends will laugh at me. I won't do it! Not for a month, a week, or even a day. You're my mother, not a police officer."
Carrie took another step forward to stand beside him. She reached out and grabbed his ear, giving it a hard twist as she pulled him upward. "Listen to me, my dear young man. I'm your mother, and that gives me more authority than a police officer. I rule this house, not you, and as long as you live here I will be the boss. If you fight me, you can go live with your father. I understand your new step-mother wants nothing to do with a teenager, especially a rebellious one, so your life should be great. He lives twenty-five miles out of town, so your school is gone, and seeing your friends and getting to the parties will be a major problem."
Randy didn't want to live with his father. The attitude of his new step-mother with her saying she wanted no part of raising Randy was a good indication of how things would be. Losing his friends and the school he had attended for years would greatly affect his life. He tried twisting away, but struggling made his mom squeeze harder.
"All right Mom, you win! I'm grounded and an eleven o'clock curfew after that. Are we finished now? Can I go to my room?"
She shook her head, "No Randy, we're not finished. You find that corner your dad put you in when you were younger and stay there until I call you. While you're there, you can remove those jeans you're wearing. You will be paddled before we're finished."
Randy's eyes opened wide. "You're going to paddle me? You can't do that! I'm sixteen-years old. I'm too old. You already grounded me, what more do you want?"
Carrie kept hold of his ear as she pulled him towards the corner. "What more do I want? I want to warm your backside so I never again have to put up with the attitude I've seen from you in the past twenty minutes. That's what I want, and it will happen. Now those pants come off or I'll remove them myself. I don't think you want that!"
He stood in the corner wondering what had made his mother change from how she'd been the previous year. He thought about removing his jeans, but didn't make any effort to take them off. He was still wondering what to do when the sharp crack across the back of his upper thighs made him jump.
"Ow! That hurts a lot. What are you doing, Mom?"
She held the long wooden spoon in her right hand as she answered. "I told you to remove those jeans. It appears you need help in doing what you were told, so I'm providing help that you understand. Do I need to continue, or are those jeans coming off?"
He was big and strong enough to take the spoon away from his mother, but the possibility of having to move out cancelled out any thought of that. "All right, you win again. I'm taking them off." He shrugged out of the jeans and turned to face the corner, not wanting his mother to see the tears forming in his eyes.
Carrie didn't like the thought of what she was about to do, but she knew she had to do it or lose her son to who knows what in the coming years. "You're learning. I will always win in this house, so get used to it. Now wait here and come when I call you. If I were you, I wouldn't hesitate in coming."
She made him wait five minutes before taking a seat on the sofa and pulling out the bath brush she had taken from the shower. She placed it and the spoon by the back of the sofa near where she sat down. Smoothing out the front of her skirt, Carrie called out to her son.
"Over here, Randy. Don't play around, or this is going to be harder on you." Watching him stride over to her, his head held high, made her feel maybe he would take his punishment like a man. She would find out later that it was to hide the tears running down his face. "Glad to see you're listening. Now over my knee like you did when you were little. My other leg will be going over the back of your knees to help you stay in position. When you're down I want you to place one hand on your back. Don't dare even trying to get up until I give you permission."
Randy found that lowering himself over her knee was humiliating. It was even more embarrassing when her free leg swung across the back of his knees while his hand was pinned on his back.
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